Merlin- The Tale Of Amber
by DannieMaya
Summary: When Amber Greenwich first meets the old sorcerer, her life changes dramatically. She is swept along with him to a journey to save his good friend, who drowned in an enchanted lake, when Amber discovers that the sorcerer has sent her to the Arthurian past, and she must save King Arthur from his curse with the help of Merlin, a young powerful warlock, before it's too late...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

my father is a famous winemaker.

He owns a successful winery in the north, where every single grape grows to be eyeball-sized. The workshop, where they squeeze the juice out of the grapes , is in the north, too, and from there the juice goes all the way round to Central England, for the obsolescence process. This is one of many more reasons why he is away most of the time.

He has to be there, in the north, and take care of the business. He visits us only once a month for three days, and he drives away to his little workshop.

Well, not exactly little.

Usually, mom takes care of the shop when he's gone. When she's gone, I take care of it. Today is one of these days.

Look, I've been working in this shop since I was eight. I'm fifteen now. It's well expected for me to see, like, every existing type of people: Women, men, children, and even a few celebrities. Some days there are even drunk, poor elderlies coming. Everybody comes here, to the Greenwich Wine Shop, and I quote my mom- "Simply to taste and buy the best wine bottles ever made."

That's why, prima facie, I'm not supposed to be surprised when this weird man enters the shop, but that's exactly what happens.

First of all, the man looks unbelievably old. His beard is completely white, and his skin is wrinkled and loose, and I imagine him as a Bulldog. His hair goes, as said The Beatles- "Down below his knee", and he wears a blue casket. He wears a blue loose shirt that looks like it is from a medieval guy's wardrobe, black trousers, and some really old-looking boots with laces wound around them. A black bag is hung on his shoulder.

The moment I see him, the first thought to pop up in my head is '_What The Hell Is __**He **__Doing Here?' _Next one after it is '_Someone __**Really **__Needs a Good Haircut.'. _ After I see what he wears, '_Oh, For God's Sake,Dress Up Like a Human Being' _is added to the list.

"How can I help you?" I ask impatiently.

He looks as if he didn't hear. He tilts his head towards me, squints and places his hand around the ear. "HOW CAN I HELP YOU?" I ask again, louder this time.

The man derisively snorts and says shrilly, "Maybe the question should be, 'How Can I Help YOU', my young, helpless lady?"

That's the exact moment when I decide that he's just a grumpy old man.

I sigh. "Sir, if you have nothing to do in this shop, I'll have to ask you to leave."

He looked briefly at the bottles shelf to the right, and then turns away and looks at the one to the left.

"I, uh… oh…" He stammers and scratches his chin, and then suddenly turns back to me, pointing at me. "Are you alone here?"

I flinch of the question and prefer lying, because who knows what he can do to me? I've never stopped hearing about old pedophiles. "No," I reply, "My mum's downstairs, in the wine cellar."

He squints again, this time I can see the confusion in his face. "Your **what?" **he asks.

"My mu-" I start saying, but then I remember how old he looks, and decide to use a better word. "My mother. She's downstairs."

I think I see disappointment on his face, but if it is disappointment, he hurries to replace it with a provided expression. "Huh, good," he mumbles, "Take me to her. I am assured that she explains much better about wines than a young, incompetent clotpole like you."

A **clotpole**?

Wow. New words to learn. Good.

I grumble and struggle with the thrust to kick him out. While an inner argument happens inside of me – between one side, claiming that the man **should** be kicked-out, because he have **really** pissed me off, and the other side, claiming that I should **not **kick him out, because he's an old man and stuff – I open the door that leads to the wine cellar and accelerate him reluctantly, "Come on, follow me."

"WAIT!" he yells, and I turn my head to look at him. He pats on his back and says, "I want you to carry me."

I stare at him in my 'You-Can't-Be-Serious' stare.

"You want. Me. To Carry. You?"

"Excuse me, young lady, but not everyone here is as strong and young as they used to be!"

I still don't move a muscle.

"Come on, though!" he urges me.

That's the exact moment when I decide that he's **more than** just a grumpy old man.

I bend down and lean on my knees. Even though I **really** don't want to, and even though the way down**stairs** includes **stairs**, I can't let down my father- who kept saying that "The Client Is First."

He gets on my back and I can barely lift myself up. He's quite heavy relative to an old man, but I try to suffer quietly, mainly when he sticks the platforms of his boots in my waists powerfully, as in trying to accelerate me.

"Would you please **cut it down?" **I sarcastically try to stop him, and see him calming down. Actually, he gets calmer than I expected. His grumpy face turns pensive and sad. "Oi, sorry, did I hurt you?" I ask, no emotion in my voice.

As if he's waking up of a daydream, he blinks quickly. "Nothing. I'm alright. It's just… a far, old memory." And here comes the real him, again. "Come one, though, I don't get any younger while waiting!"

When we get to the cellar, I can't take it anymore and force him to jump off my back, which hurts me even more. He rubs his hands and admonishes capriciously, "Hmp! Well then, where is your mother, tiny one?"

-"I'll go and get her," I answer, even though I knew the answer in the first place.

"Fine. Good," he mumbles, and I silently disappear behind a tall buffer with wine barrels and bottles. I look for a place good enough to hide, and when I feel safe where I am, I bend down on my knees, and call, allegedly, my mum. To convince him, I need to create a situation where I answer myself, so I lower my voice and shout more quietly, so he thinks my mum answers me from far away, "Yes, Johnna, dearie?"

Johnna is not even a real name. Not even my real name. But it was the first to come in my mind.

I shout 'back', "I finally found you!", step on the floor vigorously and start mumbling, as if we were having a conversation. When I come back, I'll tell him she was too busy to come.

My steps were heard all over the cellar, and I hope the old man hears them, too. When I find him seated on a barrel and shows no signs of interest in me, I deduce that he either didn't hear them, or he did and ignored. I clear my throat purposely loud. He doesn't even seem surprised, just looks up at me.

"Hmn… yes, where is she?"

"She was too busy to come," I lie, and add, "**Sir**."

He sighs, disappointed. "Oh, Well. I'll have to adapt to you, I suppose. I'll have your three bests and three worsts, so I can value."

I really dunno why, but his last comment makes me really mad. I can't take it but to actually burst.

"If you got all the way through here, to the most famous winery and wine shop in the central England, **PRESICELY HERE**, I assume you've got some recommendations and I bet you know which ones, to others' mind, are the bests and worsts. And in case you don't, I know you're just a stray who doesn't know what he wants. If that's the case, you'll have to taste it all yourself, because picking the bests and the worsts is much like picking your favourite child. IS. THAT. CLEAR?"

I didn't even know how emotional I can be when it comes to wines. Look what an annoying, old man can do to a normal girl like me.

The old man looked shocked of that little speech I've made, but he only says, quite like a command, "I demand you to taste it all with me."

My eyes open wide. He does have an impertinence. How does he even have that nerve and courage? I wonder how his parents got along with him when he was young. If he was young at all.

"I'm sorry for the question, Sir, but are you trying to get me drunk?" I inquire.

And in exchange, I get that cruel-looking smile, which makes it quite clear that I can't get out of the situation without anyone hearing about it.

We taste, about, five different types of wine, until he "reaches his threshold" and declares that he can't take it anymore, and quite cheekily asks me to keep tasting without him.

"Sure," I laugh rigidly, "Would you like me to send the results to your home at the end of the test?"

"I didn't know you have shipping services, but yes, I'd love to- The More, The Merrier, they say."

"I prefer The More, The Worse," I hiss, and refuse my own offer firmly.

Apparently, the old man really insists to annoy me, but he probably catches my fury, and he bursts. "That's it, I got tired of you, Johnna the Incompetent!" (_'So he DID hear THAT,' _I think.) "You've been treating me terrible, refusing my asks and requires, and **I got tired! **I am going now, but don't think I am not going to tell anyone! I will report to anyone who wants to hear, and **I WILL COME BACK!"**

And in these words, he steps towards the stairway.

My rage – Wow, what a powerful, fitting word – Bubbles inside me like lava inside a volcano. I can't accept the fact that all my hard work today, all the troubles and damage that he caused, were in vain. I clench my fists and close my eyes.

And then it happens.

At first, it's only one bottle. It actually **explodes**, fragrant white 'Merlot' wine starts spilling of it. I am supposed to get alarmed of that noise, but it doesn't scare me at all. I clench my fists even more powerfully than in the first place, and immediately three more bottles explode, splashing red wine all over.

Soon enough, I find myself in the eye of a wine storm, all red, white and mixed up. For some reason, I remain perfectly clean.

Finally I manage to open up my eyes, and I see the old man standing right in front of me. He doesn't look frightened, more like… satisfied, as if he was expecting all that. He looks like he's about to burst in laughter.

I notice four things while looking at him.  
First- He remains clean as well.  
Second- He moves towards me.  
Third- His smile looked too childish, and I manage to notice that he has high cheekbones.

The fourth thing is that his eyes glow gold.

**Glow gold?!**

The thing is so illogical and supernatural that I close my eyes again. I wonder if I look like that, too, and try to convince myself that my eyes must have fooled me, along with that storm going on.

I feel a hand pulling my hand, and I know, I know this is all just a bad dream, because I know that the hand holding mine is my mum's, and I know she's here to wake me up.

What brings me back to reality is kind of an electric current in my hand. I open up my eyes and hear the old man mumbling words that I try hard to understand. Some inner voice in me tells me than I **can **understand them, if I wish.

One minute before the whole places crushes down, I hear the door shuts behind me. I feel him pulling me quickly up the stairs and out of the shop, too quickly relative to a man in his age.

We both inhale heavily. I am surprised to discover that the sun had already set, and we're in the dark.

One moment before I lose consciousness, I can see his eyes change colour from orange to light blue, and then I get lost in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

My fingers dig in the wet ground.

That's the first thing to happen when I wake up. I can feel the granules of the earth, and that's what brings me back to reality – at least I'm on the ground – from this nightmare in the cellar. I open my eyes.

My vision keeps blurring and tapering off, and I manage to see the bright skies above me. In the corner of my eye, I can see a man. Not the old man, fortunately, the man is younger than him; I can see dark short hair and smiling eyes. I turn away to look at him, blink, and he's already gone.

I can feel waves go past my back, like a massage, but the feeling is stronger- as if I was floating in the sea. It makes me feel sick, and then I vomit the soul out of myself on the green grass.

When I'm done, I suddenly realize that I'm not even home. Not even close to it. The only open field I know is behind the shop, and it's full of lawns and colourful flowers. This foreign place was a rocky glade.

"We were riding," says the old man, explains before I even ask. I look around, but I see no sign for bikes or even a horse. I look at him in a look that requires an explanation, and he, in respond, just smiles. Since he does not do what my look requires, I ask out loud.

"And why would I do so?" He replies with question of his own.

"Because," I get up and move towards him, "I am much younger and stronger than you, and in case you don't tell me, I'd force you to."

He laughs. "I'd like to see you trying!"

I frown suspiciously, but I don't say anything.

He slowly gets up of the rock he was sitting on.

"Come along, now. We should go."

I grin, disbelief. "First, you annoyed me at the shop, after that, wine bottles exploded without any of us touching them and you refuse to explain, and now you intend to take me to an unknown place-" I stop just to breath, "- And you expect me to just follow you?"

"I see that manners are not your best side, young lady," he says.

I take a deep breath. I need to organize the information I just got. But first, I have to clarify every single missing detail.

"Why me?" I ask, "Why me and not any other person on earth?"

He grins, which annoys me even more. "Actually, I don't quite understand why you were fitting." The mockery in his eyes doesn't even surprise me. "But since we have nothing else to do, I am, apparently – how do you say that nowadays? – **stuck **with you now."

"Fitting? What are you-"

"We have no time. We have to go," he interrupts and holds out his hand to me.

I don't know what to do. I can't know where he leads me. It sounds so hallucinatory, and just… doesn't seem so real. As it comes to me, there's this little suspect that says that this is all just a prank. Even if it's not, this place where he intends to take me to could be dangerous.  
Plus, I don't want to be **stuck** with the old man for more days.

But then I realize. And it make me forget everything.

There is a chance to get a thing, such a special thing that for years I could just dream about or read about in books-

**An adventure.**

I repeat the word in my head, and it sounds so childish and silly, but I remember the time when I was just a little girl; Dad was still home, and mom would've made me paper hats and told me about bold adventurers and about great sailors and quests.  
I remember how I desired, really desired, to an adventure like that, but after a few years I realized that this isn't going to happen. That there are no bold adventurers and great sailors and quests.  
And here we are, standing in the woods, and an old stranger man offers me to join him, to a thing that can be called **an adventure.**

"I agree, several conditions."

He raises an eyebrow.

"One- you have to explain what happened in the shop." I arch my eyebrows toward him, as if I make sure that it's okay, but actually, it's not a question. I'm not interested in his opinion on my conditions. I just have to know what happened there, how come his eyes turned creepy gold. How come the bottles exploded without no one touching them. And the most important- how come we both did not get hurt of the shards of the glass, or stayed perfectly clean.

He takes his time with the thinking, **pretends** to consider my suggestion, as I see, and then refuses. I somehow knew that this would be his answer.

"Okay then, go find another 'fitting' one," I say, half-threating, turn back and step away, waiting for him to realize that finding another 'fitting' one (his words) is going to be very difficult, and then agree to this condition.

"Alright!" It finally happens, and I just turn to him again before I start the sequence of the next conditions.

"Two- you have to promise that no harm will happen to me." I start to count the conditions with my fingers.

He laughs rigidly in his hoarse, scratchy voice. "I can't promise anything like that!"

All I have to do is to turn again on my boots' heels. He slowly stops laughing, and finally, gives up. "Alright. I promise."

"Three- you have to tell me where are you taking me and what for," I raise the middle finger. Not in any bad intention, just for the counting. I can see he doesn't refuse this time. I smile, because this means that I've found a way to maneuver him.

"And four- you have to tell me your name."

Surprisingly, he answers almost immediately.

"Easiest of them all, young lady," he says and smiles. "Call me **Emrys.**" 


	3. Chapter 3

The forest becomes denser than I remember.

The trees get closer and their branches get longer. The grass grows so big it reaches my waist.

Emrys stands there. He looks at the horizon, as if he looks for something. It's sunset time, and we've been walking since morning. I don't know about him, but I'm tired.

I move toward him, trying to catch him up, because despite his age, he has still passed me.

I pant heavily. "Can… We… Please stop? I'm… tired," I complain out loud.

He squints and focuses on the horizon, again, ignoring me completely or not noticing.

I clear my throat.

"What? What did you say, young lady?" he suddenly says, and I notice that his voice sounds different. It's higher and the condescending tone in it is almost unnoticeable. It's noted. Perhaps I'll find a use for it.

"I asked you to stop because I'm tired," I say.

He nods, and hisses, "Lazy girl." I pretend to not notice what he said.

"If you want to be useful, at least go and look for fire woods."

He says it so casually I start to think that he's **actually mental. **Where the hell can I find a shop that sells fire woods in the middle of a forest? Besides, I don't have any money. And then I get what he means.

"Seriously? You don't mean that-"

"Yes! That is exactly what I mean!" He interrupts. "I don't understand your problem with it."

I raise my voice. "Well, you promised that you'd keep me safe! I don't know what's out there! Snakes, bears, how do I know?! I don't even know where I am!"

It seems like I prove exactly how short my fuse is. Luckily and surprisingly, he doesn't seem to be quite affected or nervous or angry at all. By his expression I assume a lot of hotheaded people, because it seems like he's used to it.

"Foolish girl," he says, "To know where you are, I have to tell you. And to tell you where you are, I need to warm up. I hope that it's understood." I open my mouth to say something clever in reply, but he doesn't wait for an answer. "Come on! Shoo! Go!"

I look at him one last time, to make sure that he is series about this, and then I step slowly away.

.

.

.

"Tell me everything."

The fire worms us up, turning his beard yellow and darkening my dotted skin.

"Your hair, young lady…" he says, "Is like a fire. It merges with the flames." His staring in my hair gets more pensive. I wonder how does he even manage to focus on more important things.

"Don't change the subject!" I half- command. "Besides, I have a name, you know. You can stop calling me 'young lady'."

Now he finally takes his eyes off my hair and focuses on my face. "Yes, I know, Joh-"

"Not. That."

"What do you mean, not that?" he asks.

"It's actually Amber."

He is silent for a few seconds, then he says, "Quite fitting. Did you get it because of your hair?"

I pick a little stone up and throw it into the fire. "Can we please not discuss my name and hair now?" I tilt my head down impatiently. "And if it really matters to you, it's because of this."

My hand reaches under my t shirt and I expose an electrum necklace, and as a pendant, an unpolished Amber stone is hung. "My father gave this to my mother instead of a wedding ring. She thought it's very special, and since I'm their only daughter, she wanted to perpetuate it."

"Amber stone," he points out the obvious, "Just like your name."

I nod. "Yes, Yes. Now, can you please start?" This time I try to sound as much patient as I can.

He leans on the tree behind him. "Well, where do I begin?"

"Try to begin from the beginning," I say.

And he starts.

"Years ago, really, I had a… friend. Even a very good one. He was clever, strong and talented, everything that I wasn't." I don't understand what this has to do with me, but don't even think about saying something.

"We used to do everything together. We went on quests," _**quests?**_I think. He clears his throat and corrects himself, "Trips. We spent time with each other more time than we've ever spent with anyone else, ever, even though we knew each other not for a long time. He was there in every important event in my life, and I was in his."

The thought that this grumpy old man's had a best-friend is so ridiculous; It nearly puts a smile upon my face. Something must've changed in him, because I'm sure that instead of every friend that he's ever had, I'd back away without thinking twice.

"He… I can say that he did not treat me in a way that a man should treat his friend. He called me names. You can even say that I was enslaved by him. He treated me as if I was a servant." He stops and sighs. "Well, I really was his servant."

I am confused. "A minute ago you said that he was your best friend," I lean forward, toward the fire, and lean on my elbows, "And now you say that you were his manservant? And that he didn't treat you nicely? How does that make any sense?"

He hurries to answer, as if he had a prepared answer. "It's not that I didn't call him names, in return. But deep inside I've always known, and I assume that he has, too, that this all was just pretending. I don't think he ever really felt like that about me. And the last time I saw him, he gave me a proof of that- a misunderstood proof. Well, I don't have the chance to ask him about that anymore…" He takes a deep breath, turns his head aside, and I think to myself, _**Here comes the plot twist, **_"Since… He's dead."

"What!?" I blurt, and then scold myself for being so surprised. It was expected, after all, with all of his past tense talking and this sad look in his eyes while telling the story.

"How?" I ask.

This time he thinks before he replies.

"In one of our trips, we went past a lake. He went down to the lake to bathe in it, and drowned. I wanted to jump to the and save him, but I couldn't, because I do not swim."

I look into his eyes, bright blue eyes, and I can tell that he's lying. I don't want to harass him about it; I may not know what it's like to lose someone, but I guess it hurts. Really hurts. Despite my thirst for information, I stop- If he doesn't want to elaborate, then don't.

Silence fell: I don't want to ask him about it, and he doesn't want to add anything about it. I tilt my head down and try to figure how he really died. It was obvious to me that if Emrys told the truth, his friend's death story wouldn't be so short, and told without any emotion.

The only question left is, what do I have to do with all that. This time, when I know he finished, I ask him, and he confirms, grumps and says that 'We were about to get to this part, and that I should've not interrupt him, thank you very much!'. In a moment, every thought about him being nicer than I thought, shatters.

"What do you know… about yourself?" He asks. I raise an eyebrow, about to say that I know everything about myself, it's obvious- I am me. I am myself, but he hurries to rephrase the question. "I mean- I know you understand that what happened there is supernatural, but what do you think caused it?"

"Well, at first, I thought it was rats. I thought they pushed them out of the shelf or crush them and shatter them. But then, when I realized that both of us did not get hurt at all and saw your eyes glow sort-of gold, I knew that something here is paranormal. Even cosmic."

Emrys smiles faintly. "I hope you already realized that there's magic involved," I widen my eyes, surprised although I was not supposed to, "Or I should explain that to you?"

I know what magic is, from all of the fantasies I used to read, but it has so many definitions… so I ask him to explain.

Instead of explaining, he demonstrates.

He moves his hand toward the fire, and says in a deep, whispering voice, something that sounds like _**Ustiedde Threque. **_I somehow manage to translate it- _**Fan the Flame. **_A gentle stream of orange sparks comes out of the flames. His eyes change colour again- and the sparks align, unreasonably, in an undefinable animal form. After a few seconds of unceasing blinking, it finally gets clear- it's a dragon. A red dragon made of sparks, hand-sized, with spread wings and a long tail. It looks so charming, I smile like a little girl in a candy shop.

Emrys laughs. "You look… quite happy, relative to someone who discovered magic."

I wink. Twice. "Wouldn't you be happy, instead of me?"

"Young lady, I have mastered magic before I could even walk. I was born with it. I did not even have the chance to be happy. But in the place where I grew up, people have believed that magic is wrong, a terrible curse. Eventually, I have started to believe in these sayings, too."

"But you don't understand!" I straighten up. "It means… it means all of the stories I've ever read are true! Hogwarts really exists, right? Magic is real!"

He looks at me contemptly. "**Hogwarts?** What is that thing, **Hogwarts**?"

I get a little disappointed, but insist to explain. "Oh, you know, Harry Potter.. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… Order of Merlin… Griffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin?"

"MERLIN?!**" **he chokes. "No, there's no such school."

I don't understand why he chooses to use the name "Merlin" just before he dismisses the idea completely, but I don't even have a chance to ask, because he interrupts me by moving his hand all over.

"Now, you try."

I wink, but I don't even try to resist- just because I am totally charmed of the idea. I know exactly where's he going with that, and move my hand toward the fire, exactly the way he did it a few minutes before. I take a deep breath and say it.

"_**Ustiedde Threque.**_"

My fingers tingle, and the only thought that comes to my mind is '_Fan the Flame. Fan the Flame. Fan. The. Flame!' _My eyes are closed and my hands are extended to the fire. I open my eyes…. And see it didn't work.

I try harder, harder, harder, breath in and out, and then open my eyes.

What I see is, that the sparks did rise of the fire and that the flames grew bigger. But I know what Emrys wants me to do. He wants me to align them.

I know I won't be able to align them in a complicated form, such as a **dragon**, so I think about the simplest form that I could possibly think of, and focus on it- An Arrowhead.

When I see I did it – the sparks have aligned crookedly, but I still call it "success" - I notice that he's not as surprised as I am. He must have expected all this, and that's why he chose me. Probably.

"You see?" Emrys breaks the Lack of conversation – not the silence. Let's just say that I wasn't really quiet during my attempts. "I haven't met a lot like you that have succeeded right away in their first try."

"Like me?"

He extends his hand to his forehead to express despair. "Do I have to explain **everything?**" He says, not angrily as I thought, no. Calmer than that. "You are a sorceress, a witch, Amber. A powerful one. And that's why I need you."

"And you got all that of what I've done? I, instead of you, would address this as a 'stupid little trick' and leave myself alone in the woods to die."

He waves his hand dismissively. "No, don't be ridiculous. I'd never leave you alone to die. I'd give you some food, so you won't starve when you die." I laugh, a little. "Never question my identifiability and judgment. Besides, I knew you'll be good even before."

Suddenly, I realize.

"The shop- it was a test, sort of a test."

He nods.

"Does that mean… does that mean you don't really hate me? All of that was just to test me?"

He explains, "Anger is the best way to unleash the magic inside. Many others before you had a very weak magic, some of them were simply patient, and some didn't have magic at all. You're stronger than all of them. The strongest, so far. And that's why I need you."

I rub my hands in anticipation. "Yes, finally we're there. Tell me."

Emrys crosses his legs. "The lake, where we are heading. My friend is at the bottom of it. All I want is… to give him a proper burial. That's all."

I'd If there was water in my mouth, I'd spit them. "That's all?! That's why you need someone so 'powerful'?! You could've used anybody. You could've done it yourself!"

He shakes his finger. "What I didn't mention is, only powerful sorcerers can get in this lake. Any other creature would just burn." Now he clicks his tongue. "Your moods match the fire. They're mostly hot, and it's a matter of seconds until they change. I can call you Tan."

His words silences me with shame, and the nonchalance in his voice makes it even worse. I know what 'Tan' means in Welsh- Fire – because my dad is originally from Wales and sometimes spoke to us at home in Welsh.

He skips to the part of the explanations and guidelines, and I'm pretty sure it's because he assumed that after he tells me everything, I'll automatically agree.

"Basically, what you need to do is to get into the lake, find the body and draw it out of the water. Seemingly simple," He says, and I know it's about tangle. "There are a few things you have to remember. First is, You can not jump into the water. You have to walk into the water until you get to the deepest, otherwise... Bad things will happen."

I don't try to understand what those 'bad things' are.

"Second is- if you do not find his body, it's alright. Know that you've done well and enough. In that case, step immediately out of the water. Half a day away in walk, you will find a huge building, where you can stay. Look for Gaius. Tell him that I sent you. He will understand. Stay there until I come to take you."

I nod, but I'm not really concentrated in what he says. My body just wants to sleep. But I manage to ask one question.

"How will we get food?"

Emrys smiles. "I am assured that with today's technology, you will succeed. Sleep now. Tomorrow morning we will have a proper meal."

I lie down on my side, and suddenly remember that I didn't have the chance to bring anything with me. Not a blanket, not any sweatshirts or sweaters. I am dressed with jeans and my black, short and tattered Beatles tee. And the weird thing in all that is that I'm not cold at all. I'm even a little bit hot, because of the fire.

I go to sleep with less weight on my heart. I may haven't decided anything about the old man, but knowing that the hatred he showed towards me is just pretending, is a big relief. Knowing the truth, or at least a part of it, is a relief as well.

When I finally fall asleep, two things fill my head. I have magic, and there's a big day ahead of me tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

In the morning, Emrys wakes me up with two dead rabbits are hung on his arm.

I get up, muzzy, and when one of the rabbits swings in front of my face, I ask, "whaaaat?" in total misunderstanding. When I realize those are **dead rabbits**, I jump at least three meters backwards, accompanied by screams of panic.

"Why are you so frightened? I promised you proper meal!" I can tell he's serious about it. I first thought that he was joking, but now I can tell he's serious.

I try to find an excuse for not eating this… thing, and mumble, "I can't eat that! I- I'm vegetarian!" even though I like meat. Just not… that kind of meat. Apparently, Emrys isn't a fool, because he pats on the ground quickly and says, "Sit down, you little crybaby, and eat! Do you want to be weak? You are going to dive deep into an enchanted lake, pull a body out of the water, and you're planning to not eat?!"

It takes me a few seconds to remember what he's talking about. Just the thought about water makes me feel so thirsty and dirty, because I remember I didn't have a shower and haven't drunk at all. And the thirst makes me hungry, no matter what sort of meal it's all about.  
"Let the feast begin," I declare.

.

.

.

Rabbit meat appears to be quite tasty.

I eat it all with pleasure, and he teases me. "Not vegetarian anymore, huh?"

"Do you think that instead of me, a young who haven't seen a dead animal except of some bugs in her life, you wouldn't be terrified?"

He nods. "I remember the first time I saw a dead animal… nevermind. What made you eat that, eventually?"

Since we eat while walking, I focus more on my steps and trying not to choke, than on his question.

Just in the moment of silence, Emrys stands still.

"It's close. We're almost there. Can't you feel it? The presence of magic?"

I shake my head as a no. Since I have nothing else to do, I keep going.

.

.

An hour later, I feel it too. Heat spreads in waves in my entire body, and I stop and spread my hands. I don't know whether to classify the feeling as good or bad, but the first thing I do is telling him.

"Of course you feel it, stupid girl. We're there."

I open my eyes, and the sight that reveals before me is just amazing.

The lake is in a huge glade, and there are trees all around it, but none of them's even close to the water. As if they contact a place of honor. In the center of the lake, there's an island, and it has a tower on it. Even if Emrys didn't tell me about this place, I'd probably know this place is sacred.

I get close to the lakeshore. There's not even sand around it, just grassy ground. I try to be very careful not to destroy anything in this place, who knows how correct these superstitions are, so I tiptoe so as not to step on the grass, bland-looking as it is. As I touch the water, my fingers cool immediately, but I don't pull my hand out.

"It's cold, but… not cold. I don't know how to explain," I turn to him, but he doesn't reply. Just is silent and staring at the island, like it means something to him.

"Emrys."

He turns his head to me.

My hand grabs the other. "I need to get in now, right?"

I feel weird that I'm not nervous, and he is. At least I think he is nervous, because he doesn't say much and just stares into the distance. I know how to read body-language. My feeling was expressed when I reminded him what I should do, and not vice versa.

My heart starts beating faster, as if it's hinting to me that I need to panic as well. Without waiting for a sign from him, I take my shoes and socks off. I take a deep breath, as a tribute to the effort's to come, and my foot steps in the water.

After three big steps, the water reaches my waist, and it looks like Emrys finally notices me. A few more steps and water will cover my entire body. I remember what he told me- I can't jump into the water, unless I want those 'bad things' to happen. I think about the fact that it appears to be a very concave lake, and every step I take causes the water level to rise and cover another part of my body. After three more steps, it reaches my neck.

I hoard air in my lungs in short breathings, without blowing it out. I repeat this several times, then breathe deeply and dive into the deep, letting the water cover the entire head and body.

.

.

**LEIOUSA, VARUN TEURPHIDAAAA!**

**RIDKCE SIVA MA RIES SOOOORE!**

**LEIOUSA, THUL JUNO AD YAAAES!**

One minute underwater. Nothing was found.

I try to convince myself that I haven't reached the depths yet. So I Think logically. Where would an old, drowning body be found? The answer is simple - on the ground, so I start swimming with my body close to the golden sand. My hands outstretch, looking for a piece of information- a cloth piece, objects that might have belonged to the person who drowned, even a lock of hair.

My vision is blurred and very limited inside the water, and that's why I almost swim past and ignore the red, scorched cloth piece on the ground.

The lake becomes deeper and more concave, and I start to think that there's no way I'll find him now. Unless they were sailing to the island, no way the body's in this depth. I hold the cloth piece in one hand and grope in the other. The groping one finds something fibrous, wet and rough. I guess it's wood – even though I can't really see – and find it as a good sign, because it means that there are remnants of a boat. Hope begins to flow back in my veins.

But it feels like I'm running out of the air in my lungs.

My body commands me up to come out of the water and breathe, but some voice in my head tells me to stay and keep looking for him because I'm close. I know I wouldn't last long without air and drown, and yet, I keep on looking.

I look desperately everywhere, swim a few feet at a time with my legs. If Emrys' friend is here, somewhere in this lake, it must be her. Small distance in front of me, I see something shimmering gold, and move straight towards it. When I think I get there, the golden shimmering thing moves forward and leads me to a greater depth.

I realize that if I don't come out of the water **right now**, I'll probably die here as well, and I can't accept that. With a feeling of choking, I realize that if I haven't found what I'm looking for by now, I'm probably not going to find it. So I turn up, cut the water surrounding me with gestures and push myself with my feet, facing up to the surface.

I walk out of the water, preparing to tell Emrys the bad news.


	5. Chapter 5- Part One

Chapter five- part one

Right after I stick my head out of the water- more likely throw it back and leave after my hair orange trail of water in the air- I notice three things.

I can see that I've reached the center of the lake, which isn't surprising at all, considering the long distance I went through. Breathless, I return the missing air into my lungs, and flutter with all my limbs, in an attempt to keep afloat in front of the amazing thing that lies ahead of me.

The island.

It is green and impressive, and a single tower stands there, a steeple. I knew a lot about castles in England, ancient, huge castles that stood through all these years. This one isn't one of those glorious castles. The steeple is single and plain, stands on a grassy island, without any other people on it. And yet, it manages to impress me.

For some reason, in all the trips that I went with my parents, where we saw these old and crumbling castles, I've never seen such an authentic like this one. It looks as if it was frozen in time.

The second thing I see comes while I swim. I notice that I'm not cold at all. Not even a little. It's still morning, and before I entered the water it was **freezing**, and I was wearing my socks and shoes, which, somehow, warmed me. Technically, it's supposed to be the coldest now, when I'm in the water, I have no shoes and socks, and the wind's supposed to freeze me. But I wasn't cold. In fact, I felt a little bit hot.

I swim, and use every second with my head out of the water to look at the coastal strip that gets closer and closer. In one of those, I notice the third thing.

Emrys isn't there.

I begin to turn my head quickly from side to side, scanning the edges of the lake and looking for him. I know I haven't found his **friend,** but why can't I find **him **now?

I try to calm myself down. He didn't say anything about him waiting for me here, just said that half a day away in walk, I can find a building, a great building, where I can stay until he comes to get me.

Despite all these, I panic even more.

"Emrys!" I call. "Emrys, where are you?!"

When I hear the silence in reply, my swimming becomes faster, and along with it, I start **thinking** faster. Perhaps something has happened to him? And if so, if something happened to this old man – that turned out to be stronger than expected, in his own way- what does that mean about me? How will I survive? On my own?...

In school I was known as the most impatient and nervous girl- I express it right now.

My thoughts distract me so much, that I don't notice I've almost reached the edge of the lake. I can see something on the grassy land, something that looks like a package wrapped in cloth. It makes me a little happy, because it means he was gone with purposes, and nothing bad happened to him. But I stay curious. My hands already reach the grass, and I get up on my legs and walk out of the lake.

I run toward the package. The first thing I see is a purple cloth, and a note rests on it. I pull the note from the folds of the cloth, open the folds of the note and start reading quietly.

"Amber,

If you find this note, I'm probably not here," I stop for a moment and smile. _How typical. _I continue to read. "And if you find this package, you've already, probably, stepped out of the lake and you see the clothes I left here, because we both know you need a few dry clothes for now.

"About food, I hope you are not hungry, because I won't be here to help you. If you can control yourself for a bit longer until you eat again, the building –" under those words, there is drawn an arrow to the right, "Is that way. And if you can not, you can hunt.

Emrys."

I look at my wet clothes, and I know he's right. I have to change, unless if I want to catch a cold. No matter how ugly and not comfortable those clothes are. I grab the package, pull the thick string curiously, and what I found are indeed clothes.

But those clothes look like they came from another world.

They look **very** old style. The kind of thing that should be now dusty and worn, located at an unknown place in the attic. The kind of thing that, I assume, girls from when Emrys lived used to wear. But surprisingly, those are clean, even seem ironed, and their colours aren't faded- I could see the bright purple colour even when I swam in the lake.

And examining its look, this time more carefully; It looks like it's made of suede, but the fabric, unlike suede, is soft. I doubt it'll warm me. It has long and thin sleeves, and over all there's the strangest part of it: some sort of a covering to the shoulders and to the chest. It has two parts, made of the same fabric, just in a lighter colour. I don't know what it's for - heating? Protection? But I don't let it bother me too much.

I put the shirt back down and look quickly on the rest of the clothes.

It seems he organized me a complete wardrobe. I find loose brown trousers, made of a soft cloth; Old leather boots, which don't seem resistant at all ; Thin wire and thick rope, apparently to put together a belt; And a gray-blue-purple piece of clothing, which I don't know what's its use.

I look for a bigger enough bush to hide me while changing. With all of the acrobatic moves I make while getting dressed. The shrubbery I find is green, just like everything else in this place, and prickly-looking. Yet, it fits. I take the shirt, the trousers and the thick rope behind the bush. I try out the trousers first, which turn out to be quite baggy, but very comfortable, and then the shirt- which is a little too big.

My body is stabbed, and every once in a while I squeak an "Oi". But as I come out of behind the bush and turn to look at my body, I barely notice the little red dots over the freckles that cover my entire body.

Because I'm still wet, the clothes get wet a little, and yet they are better than the old clothes, which I leave behind the bush. I tie the thick rope around my waist, wear the socks that remained, of course, dry, and over them I wear the boots. As I guessed, they are very loose, so I tie the other thick rope around them.

All I've left is to check the meaning of the thin wire. I stretch it with two fingers and start tying it around my body. But I don't need an extra belt.

"Nope," I say.

In the next try I collect the hair into a ponytail and tie the wire around the hair, and within a few seconds the wire slips away. I raise my hands and hit my hips with them, ready to despair, and in a moment, comes to my mind the a ridiculous possibility, but I try it.

I tie one tip of the wire to my wrist, and the other one to my shoulder. I twist my arm and check that the wire's well stretched, pull it back hard and release. Now I'm sure that this is what he meant in first place.

"Now I see, you… smartass," I whisper.

Because Emrys didn't leave me any choice. He wants me to hunt.

* * *

**Hey guys! First time I ever contact you! **

**I am so, so sorry (Did you understand that reference?) for the delay, but I was so busy. ;-;**

**This is the first part of chapter five, I had to cut it because it was too long. but don't worry, you'll get the next part... next Saturday.**

**Don't forget to leave reviews & comments, it's really important to me to know how things are going on, what can I do better etc.**

**THANK YOU! LOVE YA X**


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